Ready?
by a-slightcatchoflightning
Summary: Max/Lofty Prompt: "Are you okay in there? You're being really quiet." TW:/ depression, panic attack mention, anorexia mention, self-hatred, self-questioning, implied suicide.


Max sat on the stairs inside his apartment, wrapped in Lofty's Holby City uniform hoodie, inhaling his soft warm scent, and listening to the rush of the shower through the bathroom wall. He held a steaming mug of coffee clasped between his palms and sighed deeply. This was bliss. The light drilling sound of the water droplets from the shower had a comforting similarity to that of rain against a tin roof and it was as if he could feel each nerve, each cell, relax in turn until he was calm throughout.

The night before had been horrible. He and Lofty weren't living together properly and last night they'd both had to work late. He'd thought he'd seen his ex, Zara, skulking around the hospital before his shift started and as a result, he'd wound up sitting in the on-call room two hours later having a panic attack. Lofty had soon found him when Max 'mysteriously disappeared' and had been able to help bring Max down from the height of his anxiety.

At long last, their combined shift ended and Lofty had insisted on staying by Max's side and sitting with him, gently stroking his hair until he fell asleep, before falling asleep himself.

Now, Max tried hard to shake the uneasy feeling of neediness that hung over him like his own personal demon, but it remained lurking at the back of his mind. What if Lofty got tired of him? It was inevitable – true love was never true. He'd learnt that after Zara. That love had been "true love", but it hadn't lasted very long had it?

He sighed and took a long, thoughtful sip of his coffee; closing his eyes and relishing the comfortable embrace of Lofty's hoodie while he still could. After all, he thought, all good things must come to an end.

Lost in the deep complexity of his own thought, Max didn't notice the sound of the water slowly peter out, nor did he feel the presence of Lofty standing behind him, a concerned look on his face.

Lofty carried on into the bedroom to put on the spare clothes he kept at Max's 'in case of emergency'. 'Emergency' of course simply meaning if they decided he'd stay the night, without prior warning.

He couldn't quite fathom what it was going on in Max's head when he was sitting at the top of the stairs; he was probably just tired from the night before – the poor guy had suffered from a few panic attacks during the night, starting at 10pm an hour into their shift and continuing at intervals until around 5am. Lofty felt sorry for his partner, and now he was dressed, went out onto the landing to try cheering him up.

"Heyy" Lofty said, crouching down behind Max and making him jump. He lightly knocked on Max's head. "What's going on up there?" he asked _"Not a lot_ " he replied to himself in a stupid voice before standing up again, with Max in tow. He grinned at him and earned a smile back before they both walked down the stairs together, Lofty's hoodie draped over Max's lanky frame, the material in folds; Lofty had always been taller and more muscular than him, Max thought to himself as Lofty threw bread into the toaster and pulled out a box of cereal. It didn't always feel good being the smaller one, but at least it meant he could wear his partner's hoodies and enjoy the heavy warmth they provided – that was a bonus.

"Cereal or toast?" Lofty asked, smiling at Max once more and Max couldn't help but grin back at him. That was the thing about Lofty, he thought, his smile was infectious and you couldn't stay feeling down around him for long.

"Toast please" Max replied, his voice coming out huskier than he'd expected as he sat down at the breakfast bar, his hands still hugging the coffee mug. His face fell once more and he began picking at the rough edge of the counter, similarly deep in thought as he was before on the stairs.

"Hey Maxie" Lofty said, abandoning the toaster and taking a seat next to Max, draping his arm around him, "I know last night was rough, but it's over now". Max nodded and looked up at Lofty, trying hard to hide his emotions as well as he normally did. Lofty didn't know about his depression, and he didn't need to know, he'd already found out about his anxiety.

Max had been open from the beginning with Zara and had explained it all to her: she'd then told him he was a freak for having anxiety _and_ depression. She'd treated him like a freak from then on, so there was no way he was making the same mistake with Lofty. Lofty was special, he couldn't lose him yet.

Max took a deep breath and swallowed down the lump in his throat, the tears that once threatened to pour over, now receding and the hazy sadness being pushed to the side. He had to make the most of his time with Lofty. "Yeah, it's all over" he replied, nuzzling into Lofty's side, the heat of Lofty's skin radiating through his polo onto Max's hoodie.

"Good good" Lofty said in response, "Tell me if anything happens today, yeah?"

Max nodded, burrowing further into Lofty's polo and they hugged for a few minutes, nothing but uninterrupted peace. Until the toast popped up, breaking the soft silence that embraced them.

"Maybe you should stay off work today?" Lofty offered gently, getting up to retrieve the toast, but Max declined.

"I'd rather not" he replied, "It was just a bit of anxiety, I'm fine now"

Lofty looked uncertain, but he didn't want to cause an argument, so he resolved to himself that he'd ask Robyn and David to also keep an eye on Max when he couldn't. He was clearly upset about the night before and he needed some cheering up. It was a shame their shifts were so dodgy that week. A night shift the night before, and now an all-day shift straight after – at least it would be worth it though; him, Max, Robyn, David and Rita were all going to Cyprus in a few weeks and they'd needed to do extra shifts this week as a result. It would all be over soon thank God.

"Hey Max!" Robyn burst into the staffroom holding a massive helium balloon in the shape of an M. "I got you this because balloons make everyone happy!"

"What..." Max replied, a smile creeping onto his face "The heck? – where did you even get that from?"

"The post office opposite" Robyn said, her beam even bigger as she began tying the ribbon around his waist.

"I mean, where did you get that logic from" he clarified, giggling a little as her fingers poked his side gently, before holding his arms up so she could tie it properly.

"Everyone loves big, bouncy things!" she insisted before adding "wow your waist is skinny, I should be tying a rock to it rather than a balloon, you might float away if you're not careful!" She laughed at her joke and bustled out of the room, waving to Max as she passed the second door on her way to the lobby.

He waved back and gave her a small smile before a light frown settled on his face. Gently he pulled the string outstretched above him and watched as the M bounced lightly. He tried to erase her last comment from his mind, but he couldn't. Would it be such a bad thing if he just floated away?

He sighed, picking up his coffee mug and loosening the string a little. He'd have to wait for now.

"Right, can I get some help over here please Max?" Connie called, before gesturing towards an elderly man in a wheelchair beside her.

"Yup" he replied strolling over.

"This man needs to be taken to Heart for his operation this afternoon, here are his folders."

Max took the handles of the man's wheelchair and began wheeling him to the elevator.

"You're a nice young man aren't you?" the man in the wheelchair said, "Max is a nice name, my son is called Max"

"Ah that's nice" Max replied, "What's your name?"

The man failed to reply, instead gazing into the distance and mumbling to himself under his breath, clearly having forgotten Max's existence.

 _Great,_ thought Max, _I can't even hold a conversation with a patient. Why am I so useless?_

David walked to the staffroom and clocked Max standing by the coffee machine for the fourth time that morning. He rubbed his hands against one another before picking up the plastic box and speaking. "Are you okay? You're being really quiet in there"

He cleared his throat and Max jumped, turning to face David.

"S-sorry" David began, entering the staffroom and making his way over to Max. "Lofty said you were feeling down, and so I made this for you" his husky voice soothed Max's conscience and he looked at the box with genuine interest.

David lifted the lid, revealing a cupcake with a blue icing swirl; he'd formed an M out of marzipan and pressed it on top. "It's for you" David said softly, looking embarrassed for a moment when Max didn't react. Max looked down at the cake in its gold wrapper and his eyes filled with tears. Why was everyone so nice to him all the time? He didn't deserve it, surely.

"Th-thankyou" Max said, gratitude seeping into his voice, "Th-this is so lovely, you're lovely" he looked up at David, pride filling the older man's eyes and reached forward to hug him. They stood like that for a moment.

"You deserve it" David assured him, pulling away, "and my lord you need it too, I can feel your bones" he let out at a light chuckle at that before checking his watch. "Oh dear, I was meant to be on shift 5 minutes ago, have a good break, I'll see you later"

David left the room and Max put the cupcake down. It was nice of David, it really was, but he couldn't eat it. He wasn't being ungrateful, he truly wasn't, but his depression killed his appetite entirely.

He tried to erase the comments made on his body from his mind once more, but he just couldn't. He thought back to his young teenage years when it had all started. He'd always been skinny and – and then. And then – he'd been diagnosed with anorexia when he was 13. It had finally ended when he was 16, but he was still insecure. It was crazy, he was crazy, he had to stop, but he didn't know what it was he had to stop. Why was it all such a mess? Why couldn't he just break free?

Max groaned loudly putting his face in his hands, resting his elbows on the counter and putting his weight on them. What if it was coming back, what if it - Max lifted his head from his hands and stared at the glass of the cupboard in front of him, stepping back a little to allow himself to see his reflection.

He stood for a moment. In, out, in, out he breathed and then "AARGH!" Max yelled, hurling himself at the cabinet, slamming his fists against it. He kicked the cupboard by his feet too before grabbing a plain green coffee mug from the side and hurling it across the room; it smashed just beside the doorframe, shards of porcelain flying out in all directions. Tears rushed down his face and his breath came quickly now in uneven short bursts, he screamed again and someone grabbed his waist, pulling him backwards onto the sofa. He clawed at the air, thrashing and crying as he felt someone's hand in his hair, gently smoothing it. His throat was sore and his head felt like someone had kicked him. He could feel a pain in his knuckles, but he couldn't remember why.

As his crying grew quieter and his head began to clear, he could hear a woman's voice he knew he recognised, "Shhhh, Max it's okay, it's okay, Max, breathe, that's it it's gonna be okay, shh". Her hold loosened on him a little and he realised he was lying back on the sofa with whoever it was, crouched on the floor beside him. They must have been strong, Max thought, whoever it was.

The tears dried onto his face and he opened his eyes cautiously. His head had stopped spinning and as he glanced around the room, he came to realise the damage he'd done. The glass that had once fitted the cabinet lay in shards on the carpet and there was a dent in the lower cabinet. The paint had chipped on the doorframe and sharp green porcelain pieces lay dotted near the entrance to the staffroom.

Connie was crouched beside the sofa, looking at him, her hand still lightly running through his hair.

Oh God he'd fucked up. This was a good job, the best he'd ever had, and now he'd blown it. Great one Max, he may as well finish it off now.

Connie looked away from him for a moment and waved someone in through the door. Max turned his head to see three of his colleagues congregated by the second entrance to the small room, concerned faces on all of them, and then Lofty, his Lofty, shooing them away before entering and closing the door behind him.

Connie stood and Lofty took her place. "Make sure you get him home Lofty, Max, please take as long as you need, I think you should get help" she said softly, before leaving the room, asking the cleaning staff to wait until the two men had left.

Lofty said nothing, but Max wriggled towards the back of the sofa, and so Lofty lay next to him. He took Max's hand and held it, gently squeezing until Max squeezed back.

"Max?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me."

"Tell you?"

"Tell me."

Max sighed softly, but all his tears were used up.

"I don't know how" he confessed, his expression sad and lost.

"Start from the beginning and keep going until you reach the end" Lofty said – he wasn't going to let it go undiscussed, but he didn't want Max to panic about telling him what was wrong. Lofty was pretty sure he had some idea anyway: he'd seen the antidepressants in Max's cupboard today when he couldn't find any new shower gel.

"I'm depressed" Max said

"How long?"

"Since I was 13 – I grew up a lot quicker than most people in my year, I was diagnosed with anorexia in the same year" A sob rose in Max's throat at the memory of how terrified his mum had been, she'd sat in tears as he was hospitalized, a mere 5 stone, knowing it was his fault, but knowing he couldn't give in to treatment.

"Oh Maxie" Lofty whispered, placing a gentle kiss on his partner's temple and squeezing his hand tighter for a moment, allowing him to continue.

They lay like that for nearly 20 minutes until Max was finished and then Lofty slowly sat up, supporting Max as he shakily did the same. Tearstains were spattered across his face and Lofty paused for a moment, taking in the bedraggled state of his partner, before pulling him close for a long, soothing hug.

Max couldn't believe he'd told Lofty everything, he'd never told _anyone_ everything before, after all, you couldn't trust anyone – he'd learnt that when his Dad left. "I'll always be there for you my boy"

Ha. Good one. But Lofty was different to anyone he'd met before, he cared and he was staying.

"Lean on me if you need to" Lofty uttered as they stood together, Max's legs shaky from the sudden outburst of emotion and adrenaline. He'd kept it caged for a while, Lofty thought, they'd been dating for 5 months now, nothing like this had ever happened before.

Max stumbled and Lofty only just swept him back up in time before he fell onto the shards of broken glass.

"'M so tired" Max whined and Lofty's heart ached more than ever – Max didn't deserve any of what he was going through.

"It's okay Max, I know, come on, let's get through here and then we can go home"

"Will you stay with me?" Max asked, vulnerability at the thought of loneliness taking over and he shook at the thought of abandonment whilst feeling this way.

"I'm not leaving your side" Lofty assured him, practically carrying him as his body, weak with emotion, flopped against Lofty's side. "Here" he said, hoisting Max up and carrying him over the glass, before placing him down by the door. "Ready?"

Max whimpered in response and Lofty removed his hoodie and dropped it instead over Max's skinny frame. He wondered when it was he'd last eaten a solid meal; he'd only nibbled at his toast that morning.

It hung on Max and he burrowed his face into the cuffs of the sleeves, inhaling, exhaling, before nodding.

Lofty opened the door.


End file.
